


Tired and Emotional

by orphan_account



Series: The Long Road [4]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M, Possible Spoiler, Series 2 episode 4 The Great and The Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long case leaves Robbie in need of help</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired and Emotional

 

In the basement of 54 Randolph St, in Oswald Cooper’s hi-tech dungeon, was where James very nearly lost his temper with his Boss.

Robbie was nearly at breaking point, rummaging through papers and photos for the third time, trying to find any link to his dead wife and driving himself insane in the process. James stood on the steps and came close to shouting at him when he raised his voice and said,

“No. I’m not going to let you do this to yourself,” but in the face of Robbie’s crazy insistence he took off his jacket resignedly and crouched down beside him to help start again.

It was very late when James turned to Robbie and said once again

“Give it up, Sir. Please. Let it go. We’re not going to find anything because there isn’t anything to find.” Robbie slumped against James’ shoulder, exhausted and near to tears. James stayed very still, then tentatively put his hand across to rub Robbie’s other shoulder.

“What do you say to a few drinks and a curry, Sir? Takeaway at my place? Hmm?” He was tempting him like a small child but he realised that the older man needed someone to take over, not to have to think for a while. James understood that feeling only too well. Robbie struggled to his feet and winced as his back complained due to the squash injury he’d sustained earlier in the week. He fished in his pocked and downed two anti-inflammatory pills.

On the pretext of helping him walk, James gave Robbie his arm to get up the steps. Robbie didn’t know how good it felt to his sergeant, not just the physical contact but psychologically, being useful to the man he was in love with.

Back at James’ flat, Robbie was installed on the sofa, his shoes removed for him and his feet propped on the coffee table while James busied himself getting drinks, whiskey for Robbie and beer for himself, all this done in a half-joking manner. He warmed plates and served Lewis’ dinner to him on a tray, giving him the TV control so he could choose what they watched. Robbie raised his whisky glass and clinked with James’ beer bottle, grinning

“By heck, James, you’ll make someone a wonderful wife one of these days.” He didn’t notice the flush that came over his sergeant’s face at that.

They ate in companionable silence, laughing at the comedy film Robbie had chosen and making the odd comment. James hadn’t noticed how much Lewis was drinking, having left the whisky bottle next to him and getting up occasionally to get himself another beer.

He was a bit surprised then, having cleared the plates, when he sat down again and realised that Robbie was very drunk. His Boss leaned against him confidingly and said in the slurred, eager way of the truly inebriated,

“I really like you James, d’ye know that? You’re a damn fine sergeant, bloody good copper.” James grinned back at him.

“I really like you too, Sir but I think this conversation might be better taking place when you will remember it.”

“There you go again, Hathaway, always bloody knowing better.” Robbie reached across and went to cuff James around the head but missed and ended up falling across him, almost into his arms, causing James to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Oh bugger,” said Robbie “Sorry. Don’t mind me, had a bit to drink, bit clumsy, like” but he made no attempt to move, so James just let his arm rest around Robbie’s back and put his head back on the sofa, a long sigh escaping his lips.

“Gissa hand James, this is killin’ me back.” Reluctantly, James manoeuvred his Boss back to an upright position with maximum contact and a guilty thrill of pleasure.

“Better get you to bed, Sir, those pills don’t mix with whisky and you are going to have one helluva head in the morning.” He stood up and picked up Robbie’s arm, draping it across his shoulder, heading for the bedroom. Lowering him gently onto his own bed, James undressed the other man and hesitated for a moment, then left him his vest and underpants, knowing it would be despicable to go any further and in any case it would only drive him mad.

As James pulled the covers up to Lewis’ chin the older man shot out an arm and grabbed his sergeant’s neck.

“Come ‘ere, pet. Come on, don’t be cross wi’ us. Gissa kiss, pet.” James realised that Lewis was talking to Val, his dead wife, but he allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed beside Robbie.

“Night-night, pet, sleep tight. Love you.” Robbie held James tight to him and planted a kiss on his brow.

Hathaway snorted quietly and sardonically. Well here you are James, on the bed with him, kissed by him and likely to spend the night in his arms … but only because he thinks you are someone else.

Working on the theory that beggars can’t be choosers and that this opportunity wouldn’t come again, James shifted himself so that he could take Robbie in his arms and rest his cheek against the dark, tousled hair.

“Night-night, Sir, I love you too,” he whispered softly and smiled to himself. Sometimes dreams come true, if only partially.


End file.
